Mistaken Identity
by PsychLockMutant
Summary: Things go very wrong for the reader and the Winchesters after a shifter case. I am terrible at summaries. Please give it a chance? Reader Insert. Dean x Reader. Trigger warnings: mentions of almost rape. No spoilers except to plot of the show. Rated T because I'm careful.


**A/N: I should probably be working on Hell-Bent but this story just wouldn't go away. Oops. I hope you like this one-shot though! I'm really proud of it :) Italics are flashbacks. Also I tried making at least the first part semi-scary. Let me know if I at all accomplished this.**

 **Words: 1484**

 **Warnings: Slight language and TRIGGER WARNING for almost rape**

"Hey Winchester, is dinner almost ready?" You called from the library. Dean could usually whip out some burgers in twenty minutes, but it had been nearly an hour and there was not a sesame seed bun to be seen.

"Relax, Y/N, they'll be done soon." You frowned. It wasn't like Dean to snap at you over something so small.

 _Sam came running around the corner, nursing a dislocated shoulder. You could hear sirens in the distance and assumed the mother and daughter you had ushered outside had called the police. This hunt was going to hell so fast it was hard to keep up._

 _Some guy had gone to work and a shifter came back. You and the boys had followed a trail of bodies in the residential suburbs of Chicago. The plan was to find and kill but nobody had planned on the thing packing heat. Guess that's what happens when a shifter becomes a cop._

" _Sam, you good? And did you get it?"_

" _Yes and no. The thing nearly blew a couple of holes in my chest. I ducked and covered straight into a bookcase."_

" _It should be out of ammo by now. Where's Dean?"_

Probably just the stress of the last hunt. He was still giving off some weird vibes though. You eyed Dean out of the corner of your eye as you bit into a cheeseburger. He was surfing the internet with a really intense energy.

 _You ran upstairs two at a time, Sam following right at your heels. "DEAN!" You screamed. You ran down the hall, past several rooms before charging straight into Dean's chest._

" _Dean, what the hell? Are you okay? Where's the shifter?" You were breathing heavily and fighting back tears. He was okay, he was okay, he was okay._

" _Y/N, easy tiger! I'm fine. Killed the shifter in the other room. That sucker put up a damn good fight. I can- " Tires screeched in the driveway and car doors opened._

 _Sam grabbed your arm and started leading you down the stairs. "Let's go, we have to get out of here. And I mean right now."_

 _The three of you ran down the stairs and out the back door, leaving the cops to sort out the mess._

You were starting to shake a little now. Sam was sitting on the couch across from you, but his head was buried in a lore book about witches. Dean used plastic silverware for dinner and it had only just occurred to you that you hadn't made Dean do the silver knife test back at the house.

"Sam, I think I saw a bigger book in my room if you want to check it out?"

"Yeah that'd be great!" You both stood up and walked down the hall to your room. "That book only talked about killing witches, but the hex bags are…what hurt us…last… what are you doing?"

You shut your door and locked it. Sam tilted his head and frowned when he noticed the tears in your eyes.

"Sam, that's not Dean." You kept your voice low but that still couldn't hide the tremor in it.

"What do you…you think he's the shifter?" You nodded, a tear falling down your cheek. "I guess it's possible but, Y/N, are you sure?"

"It's not Dean. It's the shifter. I don't know where Dean is, but the sooner we kill this thing, the sooner we get to start looking for him." You opened the drawer in the nightstand and brought out two silver knives. "It doesn't know that we know so maybe we have a slight advantage."

Sam took one of the knives and said, "Okay. Let's just hope we'll be in time to save the real Dean." There was sweat on his forehead.

You purposely ignored Sam, not wanting to think about that. You opened your door-

-only to find the shifter standing right before you. You inhaled sharply and had to struggle to keep from screaming. "I don't like to be left out of the loop, you know," the shifter said, smiling slyly.

You raised your knife to attack, only to find yourself inches from its face with your wrist pinned behind your back. The shifter started to look a little blurry and it wasn't tears.

"Did you roofie me?" Your tongue felt thick in your mouth and you were having trouble keeping your thoughts linear. Your stomach did a few somersaults as you realized that Sam hadn't done or said anything yet. The shifter spun you around and put you in a headlock.

Darkness touched the edges of your vision but you still managed to see Sam passed out on your bed. You felt its breath on your ear, as he leaned in and whispered, "Guess it's just you and me, sweetheart."

You made one last half-ass attempt to get out of its grasp before blacking out completely.

You blinked rapidly, nearly blinded by the lamp on the nightstand. Slowly opening your eyes, you realized you were alone in your bedroom. Tears sprung to your eyes as you also realized that you were tied spread eagle to the bed. Your shirt had disappeared, leaving you in a sports bra and jeans.

The door creaked open and Imposter Dean creeped in from the blackness of the hall. "Good. You're awake." It closed the door and walked over to the foot of the bed. "The giant's still out cold, if you're wondering. Such a strange pair these brothers are. Such strong moral compasses, and this one seems to fancy you. The blood's flowing to all the right places." The shifter's wink sent a shiver up your spine.

"You won't get away with this," you hissed through chattering teeth.

It slowly walked around to the side of the bed and leaned in close, until its emerald green eyes were inches from your own. "Who's going to stop me?"

You had known that Dean had a thing for you. There was always at least a little sexual tension between the two of you. It was absolutely reciprocated, but neither of you had ever been the best at expressing feelings. Dean flirted with you often and most days you flirted back. Today you almost wished that you'd never met the Winchesters.

Dean climbed on top of you, and an involuntary shudder racked your body. You knew that it wasn't really Dean, but the shifter was damn good at its job. He put his knees on the sides of your body and placed his hands next to your head.

"You got any kinks I should know about or is old-fashioned good enough?" He let out a low chuckle that sounded more menacing than anything. He put all of his weight into his knees and traced a few fingers down your chest. His hands stopped at your hips.

Tears were flowing freely now, any last chance at pride was gone. "Please, don't do this," you begged.

"C'mon sweetheart. It's me." Rough hands started undoing the zipper on your jeans, when another body crashed into the shifter's. You heard something break, and then the sound of knuckles connecting with bone over and over again. You squirmed against the restraints but there was nothing you could do.

Dean stood up, knuckles bloody and holding a knife. You stared with wide eyes, hoping it wasn't the shifter this time.

"Dean?" You croaked. The man took a few steps toward you, but stopped when you flinched. He brought the knife to his forearm and made a cut. "It's me, Y/N. Hold still, I'm going to cut you loose, okay?"

You could have melted into the bed. Dean's voice was so soft and soothing. You were still shaking, but it was mostly adrenaline at this point. A little part of you was still imagining Dean on top of you, but hopefully like all scars this one too will pass.

The minute the **real** Dean had cut the ropes, you flung your arms around his neck and buried your head in his shoulder. He dropped everything and just held you, crying just as much as you were. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Y/N. It knocked me out, the cops detained me, and I couldn't… I'm sorry sweetheart."

You just nodded into his shoulder, not trusting your voice. You wrapped your legs around Dean's middle and let him carry you to the living room. You heard Dean whisper something, presumably to Sam, before he carefully set you down on the couch. He put a blanket around your shoulders, as you nestled your head into Dean's chest.

You tried to memorize the feel of his torso, the bend of his legs, and the scratch of his scruff. You inhaled and smelled sweat and pine, and you felt Dean hold you harder.

"Hey, Dean?" You said quietly.

Dean sniffed and whispered, "Yeah, Y/N?"

"Let's not take a shifter case for a while, okay?"

 **That's it! Thanks for reading and remember to favorite and review!**


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